I love life. This breath, that God has given, represents His purposes and my joy. I am here for His good pleasure (Phil 2:13). The works of our loving Father culminate in His glorious will being accomplished. This fact can leave my life quite messy, and, at other times, exhilaratingly beautiful.
I find myself, now, wanting to drink in more of what I might have called “boring” times. The times when nothing happens, nothing is really changing… But, these times are important, too…aren’t they? It’s probably what makes up most of this life.
I have a clearer understanding of how each minute with somebody can potentially be one of the last… So, how do I want to spend that minute, that hour…those years. Can I more clearly express my thoughts and love to those who are near?
These are lessons that make a person “better.” Not perfect… I have gone through, arguably, the worst…now, will I learn? Will I friend better? Will I family better? Will I husband better? Love “better?” I want to, I desperately want to.
Purpose is a thought that barges into the mind immediately following the death of a loved one. It disguises itself as “Why?” Purpose is not ours to know. It’s not our plan, our scheme, or our way of doing things. It’s God’s. But, I benefit from His purpose, whatever His many tentacled goals may be. I am made stronger while looking upward, finding faith, and clinging tightly.
I’m changing. New avenues of personal relationship exploration are opening up. I stand at, yet, another precipice, looking out over a foreign land. Some items are familiar to me, but most is completely different. Steps are uncertain, the various paths are not clearly marked, but…strangely enough, the grass is green and the landscape is easy traveling. How nice!
For it is God who is working in you both to will and to work according to his good purpose.
What does the Lord have in mind? God, can I ask that of you? Maybe, I should just keep walking, choosing the packed dirt path through the tall grass that you prompt me to follow… Happily walking along, carrying my ever-changing grief, applying the lessons taught, I will continue through this new, and beautiful, land before me.